


secrets of the past

by jilliancares



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Accidental Outing, Getting Together, M/M, Time Travel, Trans Character, trans!Lance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-06
Updated: 2018-06-06
Packaged: 2019-05-18 19:57:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14859269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jilliancares/pseuds/jilliancares
Summary: Team Voltron gets transposed into their bodies from the past, sending Lance into a panic, because nobody knows he's trans.





	secrets of the past

Lance had a love-hate relationship with building the Voltron coalition.

Like, sure, getting out of the castle and getting to do missions that didn’t involve just flying around in their lions and shooting down Galra scum was always nice, but they could never quite know what to expect. Sometimes they strolled up to a planet and almost immediately had a whole new population on their side and willing to fight, and other times, these planets for some reason wanted something in return. You know, besides Voltron’s promise to protect them and save the entire fucking universe, because clearly that wasn’t enough.

“You want… to put us through a trial?” Allura said, her eyebrows scrunched together in confusion. Lance didn’t blame her. It wasn’t very often they were asked to prove themselves, considering the fact that anyone being free from Galra reign was kind of a literal testament to their strength.

“Yes indeed,” said Reinan, the leader of the Amalax, which was a species that had more eyes than could possibly ever be necessary, Lance was sure. Still, that didn’t stop them from having eyes literally everywhere, blinking all out of order and rolling around in their sockets seemingly without purpose. “It is important to our people to clearly see our allies’ intentions and abilities.”

Lance, unable to help himself, leaned towards the person closest to him — Keith. He snorted quietly into his ear, whispering, “ _Ha_! Clearly see.” Keith elbowed him in the side, though that didn’t stop Lance from noticing the way the corner of his mouth twitched upward. 

“We feel that, should you undergo our trial, we will receive the knowledge and clarity we desire. Only afterwards will we agree to ally ourselves with the coalition.”

After appearing to give it some thought, Allura spoke up. “We will agree to participate in your trial,” she announced, which — duh. They were kind of desperate for an alliance with the Amalax, considering their terrific military power along with their slight divination abilities. With any luck, they’d be informed of any important occurrences or activity in the Galra ranks before they should conceivably be able to know it. They just needed this stupid alliance first.

“Wonderful!” Reinan said, clapping her hands together and making Lance wince, because honestly, her hands were covered in eyes — how did that not hurt?! “The trial is simple. The future is of immense importance to my people, but of equal importance to us is the past.” As she spoke, she stood, another person coming quickly to stand at her elbow, holding a cloth bag. The two of them came forward to stand before the Paladins, and as Reinan continued to speak, her assistant handed them each what looked like a pill from the bag. “All you must do is prove that you can work together despite the circumstances of time. Paladins, Princess, if you will.” He gestured towards the pills in their hands, and as one, they put them in their mouths.

Immediately, the pill dissolved on Lance’s tongue, no need for water necessary. The next thing he knew, every one of his limbs were feeling heavy, trying to sink to the ground, and he blinked his eyes slowly a few times, idly hopping they hadn’t been tricked and poisoned. He managed to make eye contact with Keith, who looked like he was trying to show surprise and fear through his mask of sudden exhaustion.

And then the feeling went away, and with it, everything else. Lance was whisked into a new place entirely. Still very clearly on the same planet they’d been on, just some place different, and Lance was alone. This was the first thing he noticed. The second thing, however…

See, he turned his head to look around, to see what exactly was happening, when he felt the brush of hair along his shoulders. _His_ hair.

Immediately, his breath caught in his throat. Panic exploded throughout every fiber of his being, stiffening his joints and making him sweat, pooling quickly under his arms and at his lower back. He wiped his hands on his pants, also sweaty, and was forced to face his very real and very horrible reality.

He’d been sent into the past. 

Or, more accurately, he’d been turned into a past-version of himself and was now stuck on this god-forbidden planet, forced to partake in some ridiculous trial while he looked like _this_.

It was his best kept secret. No one knew he was trans, not anymore. Not since he’d left Earth. No one knew he’d struggled with his identity since elementary school, and then struggled with the thought of telling his family all throughout middle school. No one knew that he’d finally told them just before entering high school, receiving more support than he’d ever dared hope for.

No one knew he’d had surgery just before leaving for the Garrison. That he’d been on T since the ninth grade. He was still on it now, though he’d managed to convince Coran it was for a special allergy he had when getting him to use the replicator on the few pills he’d spectacularly happened to have on him when they were whisked into space. Sometimes paranoia was a good thing.

And now.

And now all of that was _gone_. Sure, it was only temporary, probably, oh-god-please-hopefully, but that wasn’t the _problem_. Or, that wasn’t the only problem. No one was supposed to know. He’d finally gotten away from Earth, from all the people who had treated him differently before the Garrison, before he had finally, _finally_ started to actually pass. 

He missed Earth every day: missed his family and the beaches and the rain and everything outside of and in between that, but he certainly didn’t miss all the horrible shit he’d left behind. All the bullies. All the prejudices. All the things that had reminded him of the fact that, no matter what, some people would always view him differently.

So, despite his family no-doubt thinking he was dead, despite the fact that he lived in an ancient Altean ship and fought the Galra in an attempt to save the universe every day, he could appreciate his life for what it was. He could appreciate the fact that everyone viewed him exactly as he wanted them to. He could appreciate the fact that, for once, he was exactly who he wanted to be.

Except for now.

Now, he was standing beside a building while a bustling crowd of eye-covered strangers moved around him, talking to each other and gesticulating as they walked and taking absolutely no noticed of the terrified kid standing stock still against a wall.

Lance tried to take stock of his situation. He was no doubt supposed to find the rest of his team, band together and work through whatever it was the Amalax wanted them to do, but he _couldn’t_. His hair was long, like past his shoulders long, and he was — God, he must’ve been about thirteen years old. He didn’t have a binder yet, but he _did_ have fucking breasts, which had caused enough of a panic the first time they’d happened, thank you very much.

He was shaking. His knees were wobbling almost dangerously and he could feel the tremors all the way up his body. He’d literally been inches from death before, had faced down hundred-foot tall beasts and been surrounded and completely without help. He’d been bleeding out in battle, been unconscious and half-dead and barely-making-it-to-healing-pods, and yet the terror he was feeling now was unlike any of those. The terror of suddenly being out, the terror of having the choice taken away from him, the terror of not knowing exactly how everyone would react.

Lance’s chest was tight, his face hot, and he felt like he could burst into tears at any moment, which would not be entirely ideal for completing this trial. Because, right, that was still a horrible thing that was happening. Thanks a fucking lot, Amalax bastards.

But when Lance caught sight of a little boy across the street, black hair shaggy and hanging in front of his face, peeking around the edge of a building with a knife in hand, Lance ducked out of the way and hid, pressing himself against the side of another building, chest heaving. 

 _No, no, no, no, no_ , Lance thought desperately, his eyes fluttering shut as his restraint against the dam behind his eyes began to waver. _Keith can_ not _see me like this._

For a while now, he and Keith had had a _thing_. Lance hadn’t dared to believe Keith was actually flirting back with him, at first, but over time (and with a lot of extra convincing from Hunk), Lance finally became aware of the fact that it was really happening. They were constantly dancing around each other, catching each other’s eyes and saying more and more risky and revealing things. Lance was sure they both knew about this thing between them, so at this point it was just their nerves and inexperience keeping everything that came next at bay.

Every day Lance thought about how it was only a matter of time before he was kissing Keith, before he was calling Keith his boyfriend, but he was willing to be patient, willing to see how it played out, how the tension between them finally broke.

But Lance didn’t want Keith to find out like this. Keith, who was unequivocally gay and might… might feel a certain way about… Lance.

Lance didn’t like to think about it. He liked to imagine that Keith wouldn’t bat an eyelash, that he’d kiss Lance and tell him he was an idiot for even worrying about it. But a dark, horrible part of Lance’s mind crept to the forefront of his thoughts some nights, whispering about how Keith could be just like those people from his old high school, about how he could be repulsed by Lance, could refuse to date him because of who he was.

Deep down, Lance knew Keith wasn’t like that. Throughout all their time in space, they’d only grown closer to each other, closer to everyone on the team, and Lance knew he was surrounded by wonderful people. He knew Keith was genuinely sweet and empathetic, that he was hot-headed and rash but not hateful. But still, Lance couldn’t exactly control his thoughts. He couldn’t keep them from creeping in and taunting him with images and ideas that made him want to shrivel up and cease to exist.

“You okay, miss?”

Lance’s eyes flew open, the voice despairingly close, and — yes. It was a concerned looking older man, frowning down at Lance as he stood against the wall. When the words finally caught up with his brain, he flinched so hard he hit his head on the wall behind him.

“Woah! you okay there!?” The man asked.

“F-fine,” Lance said quickly, before sidestepping away and hurrying down the street, going in the opposite direction from where he’d seen Keith headed. He couldn’t let anyone see him like this. He had to… Well, he didn’t really know, but he had to do _something_.

There were little tables lining both sides of the street, vendors standing behind them and talking animatedly with all the passersby, both Amalax and other visiting species. Lance twisted and turned throughout all the strangers, trying desperately to see through the crowd and get his bearings. He’d shot up several inches in high school, and ever since he’d towered over a good amount of people he met, making this sudden blast from the past disorienting, seeing as he could barely even see past anyone’s shoulders.

He made his way to one side of the street, ignoring leering looks from creepy individuals and keeping his eyes peeled, both for anything that could help him and for his teammates, in case he needed to duck and hide again.

Luckily, he finally found one of the two things he was looking for, and it wasn’t any of his teammates. He came to a stop in front of a knife stand, where the vendor was leaning on his table and conversing with his customers across from it — a couple, by the looks of it — who were examining his selection of knives with interest. Lance didn’t even spare a moment to feel bad about it. He just crept up to the stand and snatched the knife closest to him, immediately turning tail and sprinting back through the crowd.

Only a few moments later the shouting started up behind him, but he was small and quick and had disappeared into an alley by the time anyone was even looking out for him. There, he took the knife to his hair and started hacking at the long locks, slicing roughly through them, uncaring whether it looked any good as long as it was short. 

He had only just finished, running a hand through his now short hair with its leftovers surrounding him in a puddle by his feet, when a random Amalax turned the corner, freezing when they saw Lance, a probably deranged-looking kid, holding a knife and surrounded by hair.

Panicking, Lance spun and sprinted away, darting into a random store a few streets from the alley and stealing his second item of the day. This time it was just a random shirt, which he tore into shreds in the store’s bathroom and wrapped tightly around his chest, using it as a makeshift binder. In his panic, he ended up tying it so tightly it almost hurt, but he figured it was better safe than sorry. Finally, feeling the calmest he had since he’d reverted back to his thirteen-year-old self, Lance stared at himself in the bathroom mirror.

His hair was a raggedy mess, hanging jagged and messily around his face, but it was clearly as good as it was going to get, considering the one tool he had along with his inexperience with hair cuttery. All in all, he was passing better than he ever had before coming out. And he’d prefer this horrible haircut to his longer one any day, honestly. Now, all he had to do was find the rest of his team and work together with them to prove to the Amalax that they could be trusted.

Lance made his way out of the store as calmly and non-guilty as he could manage. He tucked his stolen knife under his belt, figuring at least he was armed now, and made his way back through the streets towards the area he’d first arrived at. From there, he started in the direction that he’d seen Keith going, hoping he’d run into the rest of his team from there.

And run into them he did.

He saw them before they saw him, the five of them gathered around an outdoor table and looking around anxiously. It was Hunk who spotted Lance first, and he called out his name and pointed to him, making the rest of their team spin to look at him expectantly, all looking relieved.

Lance had to squash down on his internal panicking, screaming at himself, _they know, they know, they know!_ as he strolled up to them.

“Guess I missed the memo,” Lance joked. “I didn’t know we were meeting here.”

Hunk’s eyes widened, and then he grinned. “Oh my God!” he said, voice much deeper than Lance would’ve expected from a fourteen-year-old boy. “Pre-puberty Lance’s voice is adorable.”

Lance flushed, laughing nervously and shaking his head in what he hoped looked like exasperation. “Shut the fuck up,” he said, which really did sound weird in his current voice. “Let’s just finished whatever this trial is and get back to our present bodies.” He finally took a moment to look around at everyone, then. 

Pidge’s hair was long, seeing as she’d yet to have to cut it all off to sneak into the garrison. And Allura’s hair was cut into a cutsie bob, looking about sixteen-years-old herself. Shiro matched her in age, but his appearance had to be the most drastically different. His hair was all black, his face scar-free, and his arm was… Well, his arm. He seemed to not be able to get over it either, his fingers running over his supposed-to-be-robotic-arm repeatedly, almost unknowingly. 

“I can’t believe you have the audacity to make fun of my hair,” Keith scoffed, looking at Lance’s hair in bewilderment. Lance flicked him off.

“And I can’t believe you just used the word ‘audacity’ in real life,” Lance scoffed. “Besides, _I_ came to my senses,” he said, playing it off. “You’re the one still suffering mulletitis.”

“Let’s remain on the alert, guys,” Shiro cut in, looking around warily. “We’re all together now, and the Amalax said they wanted to see us be able to work together regardless of time.”

Lance settled into the left-over chair at the table, trying to take a deep breath and aborting the idea half way through, his binder constricting him.

“This is such a weird trial,” Lance said, glowering at the centerpiece on the table. There was nothing wrong with it, a perfect piece for some outdoor seating, but Lance was willing to glare at anything right then. “Like, what does us being younger have to do with our ability to work together? We still have our regular minds.”

“No idea,” Allura said, sighing long-sufferingly. “But it’s possibly the Amalax are seeing more into this than we are. Let’s just remain calm and ready.”

Lance huffed. He turned to look at Pidge, expecting her to seem at least half as exasperated as him, but instead she was looking at Lance with her analyzing eyes. Uncomfortable, Lance twisted his head in the other direction, staring at Keith.

At this age, Keith was all skin and bone. He wasn’t sitting normally in his chair, instead having his feet resting on the seat along with his butt, his knees pressed against the edge of the table. No doubt when he stood up there’d be red marks left behind on his skin.

Keith, apparently feeling Lance’s stare, turned to look at him. His tongue was pressed against the side of his mouth, his cheek bulging out where he was pushing against it, probably unconsciously. An old habit, maybe?

“Thumb war?” Lance suggested, wiggling his hand at Keith expectantly. Keith rolled his eyes, though he reached forward to grab Lance’s hand anyway. At precisely that moment, a little ways away from them, the road exploded. 

A giant, space-groundhog emerged, tearing its way onto the street and towering over the screaming citizens. It growled, revealing its hundred of un-groundhog-like teeth, and took off in the opposite direction, rampaging through the town and knocking over people and stands alike.

Already, the six of them were on their feet.

“Guess we’re supposed to defeat that thing,” Shiro said, his eyes wide. He, like the rest of them, hadn’t been magically transported with his bayard. In fact, the only one of them that’d come with a weapon was Keith, considering the fact that even at thirteen, he’d been carrying that Marmora knife around with him everywhere. Lance was the only other one of them with a weapon, he was pretty sure, but they were paladins of Voltron. They had to take this thing down, and fast.

“Let’s go!” Shiro commanded, after another moment of hesitation, containing a bewildered glance to his now-flesh arm, before he was turning and they were all sprinting off after him. They ran through the streets, racing after the giant groundhog with nothing but hope and determination. Already, Lance was struggling to catch his breath, doing his best to gulp and gasp down whatever oxygen he could manage as they gave chase.

They caught up to it after a couple streets, due to the groundhog having stopped to torment one particular unlucky soul’s booth, doing a number on the fresh fruit and pastries they’d had lined up. 

“How the hell are we gonna take that thing out!?” Pidge demanded, and now that Lance thought about it, wasn’t she like, _ten_? She was fucking tiny. She couldn’t fight that thing!

“Get any weapon you can find,” Allura instructed, already darting towards the side of the street where there was an array of weapons scattered around a destroyed section of the market. Lance and Keith, already equipped with weapons, though small in comparison to the beast, exchanged looks, shrugged, and charged.

Keith immediately jumped for the creature, trying to scramble up its back, though the groundhog apparently noticed the extra weight, freezing from where it’d been devouring the stand’s wares, its hackles rising. Needing to distract it, Lance jumped in front of the groundhog’s face and yelled, “Lookie here you ugly fuck!”

The groundhog, opposed to being yelled at and or insulted by children, roared and charged at Lance, who turned and sprinted. Except he was sprinting much slower than usual, only partially due to his shorter-than-he-was-used-to legs. There was also his lack of breathing ability playing a part, and so it was with relief that he collapsed against another stand when Pidge managed to snag the monster’s attention, directing it towards her as she screamed at it and sprinted off in another direction.

Meanwhile, Keith was still clambering up the thing’s back, holding on for dear life as he tried to maneuver closer and closer to its head, and Shiro, Allura, and Hunk finally came charging, each equipped with newly scavenged weapons of their own.

“Here ya go, buddy!” Hunk called, tossing Lance a gun, which totally wasn’t safe at all but Lance wasn’t complaining, considering the fact that he managed to catch it swing it around his wrist, which looked fucking awesome. He took to shooting at the beast, aiming for its vulnerable face and making it roar and stamp in pain and irritation. It spun around, newly determined to murder whatever was causing it pain, and advanced on Lance with a newfound sense of rage.

What ensued was the most painful and horrific evasion of Lance’s life. The groundhog had no care in the world for leaving him alone, meaning it chased him street after street after street, neither growing tired nor losing interest. Tears were slipping down Lance’s face soon enough, his breaths rasping grossly through his mouth as he ran, his entire chest aching and protesting in pain.

It only stopped when Keith finally managed to make it to the groundhog’s face, plunging his knife into the groundhog’s eye and making it squeal horribly in pain before collapsing, where the rest of the team converged on it and finished it off. And by the rest of the team, Lance meant everyone but him, because he was too busy leaning hunched over a stand, wheezing horribly and sounding on the verge of death even to his own ears. No matter how much air he got, his body didn’t seem satisfied, his panted breaths doing nothing to make him feel like he was getting the air he needed. The fact that he wasn’t running anymore didn’t seem to matter to his body, because his heart was still working overtime and his lungs were still aching for oxygen.

“Lance, are you okay?!” someone demanded. Hunk. He sounded concerned, and he came to stand near Lance, everyone else following him.

“Fine,” Lance gasped, leaning even harder onto the table before him. “Just — lot of running. Can’t breathe.”

“Stand up straight,” Shiro instructed. “Put your arms behind your head, come on.”

Lance obeyed, his ribs aching as he stood up straight, folding his arms behind his neck and clenching his eyes shut as he continued to struggle for breath. His face felt horrible hot.

“Come on, you got it,” Shiro said, and he reached up to rub Lance’s back comfortingly. And then he paused, and horror managed to wriggle its way into Lance’s body, making itself known even throughout the pain and desperate desire to breath properly.

“Lance, what is this?” Shiro said, his fingers pressed against the makeshift binder under Lance’s shirt, and Lance cursed the entire universe, cursed the Amalax, cursed Shiro’s supposed-to-be-robotic arm.

“Nothing!” Lance insisted, struggling away from Shiro, but he was feeling light-headed now and he could still barely breathe, was still making these horrible sounds in his throat.

Shiro yanked him back, lifting the back of his shirt to reveal the fabric he’d felt. Lance could feel everyone’s curious gazes on him and he knew he’d be crying if he could manage it, if his body could make itself cry and scream and run and _breathe_ all at once.

“Lance! What’s — this thing’s cutting off your circulation!”

One moment, Lance was standing there, wheezing, and the next he was bent over the nearest stand, a strip of cold metal against his back before there was a _rip_ , his binder coming undone and finally un-constricting his chest. He could suddenly breath easily, his gasping breaths actually doing something to relieve him, except now he was collapsing against the stand entirely, sobs escaping him and shaking his body as everything he’d had going for him came crashing down.

“Lance,” someone was saying, but Lance could barely hear them around the sound of his world falling apart.

“Nooo,” he moaned, trying to curl in on himself. Someone reached out and put a hand on his shoulder and he jerked away from them, shoving himself upwards and stumbling away with a hissed, “ _Don’t touch me._ ”

Everyone was looking at him, all with understanding and pity in their eyes, and Lance was still backing away from them, not even sure where he was trying to go but wanting to be _away_.

And then his limbs felt heavy, familiar in their unfamiliarity, and his eyes were slipping shut only to fly back open, the six of them once again gathered in the great hall they’d started in, still surrounded by Reinan and all the other Amalax that’d been there from the start.

Lance was heaving, now from panic instead of pain, though he felt a hundred times more comfortable, once again in his own body. He could feel everyone looking at him, both his teammates and the Amalax, and he felt himself stiffen, feeling trapped.

“Princess Allura,” Reinan began immediately. “You must understand, we never would’ve had you all undergo this trial had we known the consequences it would have. We had no idea that the blue paladin was —”

“I understand,” Allura said graciously, bowing her head slightly at the Amalax leader. “I hope you, in turn, can respect our choice to postpone the making of our alliance until tomorrow. Right now, my paladin needs me.”

Reinan nodded courteously and Allura nodded in return, before turning and looking directly at Lance. He was still feeling a mixture of nothing and everything, wanting to sink into the ground and be alone with his thoughts. Instead, Allura crossed the loose circle the six of them had formed and put her hand on his back, guiding him back towards the castleship with the rest of the paladins following behind them.

Lance shrugged Allura off, disconcerted. Was Allura comforting him like this because she felt bad for him? Or did she think he needed it? Did she think, now that she knew he was trans, that he couldn’t shoulder his own pain alone? That he was weaker, somehow?

Lance wasn’t ashamed of himself. There was absolutely nothing about himself that he was ashamed of, but that didn’t stop this weird parade of feelings from marching through his head. It felt like his brain was pounding in there, a horrible cocktail of anger and fear and everything in between shaking around inside him.

He hadn’t wanted them to find out like this. He hadn’t even been sure if he’d wanted them to find out at all, realizing for the first time ever what it felt like to live as someone who was considered cis. But if he had wanted to tell them, he’d have wanted to do it with his own words, on his own terms, in his own time.

Instead, it’d been abrupt and horrible. It’d felt humiliating and exposing, the situation so far from something he’d been able to control. In just a few short hours he’d experienced what felt like every negative emotion he knew to exist. 

Now, he slumped up the ramp to the castleship, his energy quickly draining out of him. He felt exhausted, every fiber of his being wanting nothing more than to collapse on the floor and just lie there until he felt good again.

 _“Princess? Why are you all back so soon? What happened out there?”_ Coran’s voice came over the announcement system. 

“There was a bit of a mishap with the trial,” Allura answered, worried eyes flicking over to Lance. “The alliance is still on, the ceremony just won’t be happening until tomorrow.”

Everyone was looking at Lance. They’d come to an almost unanimous stop in the entrance of the castle. He could barely look at everyone, instead staring with dead eyes somewhere near Allura’s left ear.

“I’m tired,” he announced. “I’m gonna go to bed.”

“Lance —” Allura tried, but Lance had already turned, was already walking away.

Blissed moments later he was typing in the code for his room, collapsing on his bed in a heap once he was admitted. He closed his eyes, his limbs feeling heavy all over again, though for a completely different reason this time, and fell asleep.

When Lance awoke, it was morning. Sure, this was usually the case, but after last night, he’d been expecting to be woken up for dinner or something, everyone demanding answers and whatnot.

Instead, he’d been left to sleep all that he'd needed, and it was with a mixture of trepidation and relief that he went through his usual morning routine. It felt weirdly… nice, knowing he didn’t have a huge secret anymore. The way it’d come out left a lot to be desired, but… Well, he didn’t completely regret it. 

Especially not when he emerged from his bathroom, teeth brushed and face washed, to find Keith sitting on the edge of his bed, tapping his foot methodically. He jumped up when Lance emerged, a tentative smile breaking across his face.

“I hope you don’t mind,” he said quickly, gesturing towards the door. “I — your code was pretty easy to guess.”

Lance scowled, though no actual anger came across in it. He crossed his arms. “1234 isn’t _that_ easy to guess,” he said stubbornly.

“Sure it’s not,” Keith said, appeasing him, but he was smiling wider now. And then he stepped forward, his expression turning serious.

“We understand why you didn’t tell us,” he said, and he crossed his arms too, standing half a foot away from Lance and pursing his lips. “Coming out is really scary. But we all still love you, Lance. You could’ve told us at any time.”

Lance felt his mouth wobble. He forced it into a smile, saying, “You _all_ still love me?”

“Yes.”

“ _You_ love me?”

Keith flushed and he rolled his eyes to try to draw attention away from it, but it didn’t work. “Yeah, Lance.”

Lance smiled and his shoulders slumped forward, all the tension he’d been holding since the day before deflating out of him. It was too exhausting to continue being worked up about this. Too draining to keep holding himself back, to have held onto that secret for so long in the first place, dodging any little thing that could’ve led to him being found out.

“I really need a hug,” Lance said, and Keith’s eyes widened.

“Oh,” he said, his arms kind of twitching by his sides. “Um. Do you want me to go get Hunk…?”

“Dude,” Lance said, and Keith laughed, albeit a bit nervously, and he strode forward, letting Lance collapse against his chest. He groaned against him, winding his arms securely around Keith’s waist and just laying there. Keith rubbed his back and Lance hummed.

“I’m sorry it happened that way,” Keith murmured. One of his hands inched its way up Lance’s back, his fingers coming to play gently with the hairs at the nape of his neck. Lance leaned his head farther forward, making room for Keith’s fingers and exhaling against his neck. “You deserve to be able to come out the way you want to.”

Lance sighed, loud and long. “At least it’s over now,” he grumbled. “And I can stop lying to you guys about never wanting to go swimming.”

Keith laughed, his breath puffing out against Lance’s ear.

Lance finally straightened up, pushing Keith gently away and turning towards the door. “Come on,” he said. “I’m sure everyone’s desperate to see me and assure me they still see me the same,” he said with a roll of his eyes.

“They _do_ still see you the same,” Keith insisted. “Nothing’s changed.”

In the kitchen, everyone was already gathered, a big buffet of breakfast items scattered along the table. Everyone brightened at the sight of Lance, talk bursting forth from all their mouths at once.

“Woah, woah!” Lance said. “I can’t respond to all my fans at once, please.” This got a laugh from his friends and Hunk jumped to his feet, hurrying forward to pull Lance roughly into his arms.

“I love you, dude,” he said, crushing the life out of Lance.

“Back atchya,” Lance gasped, breathing out a sigh of relief when he was released, Hunk reached out to ruffle his hair. This started a parade of hugs, everyone scrambling to their feet to get to Lance.

Pidge hugged him for a long time, silent, and when Shiro hugged Lance he told him he was proud of him. Allura asked him how he was doing, how he felt, and Coran gave him a noogie, making Lance wish he’d never taught him about that particular Earth custom.

“I hope you never felt unsafe at the thought of any of us finding out,” Allura said, looking at Lance earnestly after they’d all gathered back around the table, food now on their plants. “It was of course your information to share, I just hope it wasn’t fear that kept you from sharing it.”

“Oh, no, not at all,” Lance hastily assured. He stabbed his fork into his space-pancake, lifting the entire thing to his mouth for a bite. After swallowing, he continued. “It was just — back on Earth, before the Garrison, _everyone_ knew. They couldn’t _not_ know. And for the first time, I don’t know, I got to see what it was like for no one to even realize I was trans. It was… nice.”

He received small smiles and understanding nods in return. “But this is nice too,” Lance said with a grin, shoving another bite of pancake into his mouth. “It feels like I’ve got a huge weight off my shoulders.”’

A hand came to grip his under the table. Lance grinned, looking over at Keith, who was staring determinedly at his food with the beginnings of a blush gracing his cheeks. Lance squeezed his hand, watching as Keith’s cheeks darkened, and grinned to himself.

Yeah, it was only a matter of time until Lance would be kissing that boy and calling him his boyfriend. Lance rubbed his thumb across Keith’s knuckles, wondering just when he’d do it, how he’d do it, where he’d do it… Maybe he’d press him against a wall. Or maybe he’d just tug Keith into him and surprise him with the kiss. Maybe he’d hold Keith’s face first, going so slow they could both feel the tension building between them, the air between their lips charged with electricity.

Grin encompassing his entire face now, Lance dug into his pancakes with renewed vigor. It didn’t matter what kind of kiss he chose to do, because soon enough he’d be able to try out all of them.


End file.
